Star Wars: An Empire Asunder
by hxazgalor
Summary: In the wake of the Empire's fall, Imperial warlords tear at each other's throats in a desperate, bloody game of succession for the Empire. An ambitious Force wielder seeks to build a new Empire to ensure balance to the Force, while a young Imperial lieutenant will find himself changed in the anarchic upheavals of a post-Empire era.
1. Prologue

A long time ago in a galaxy far, far away, an empire falls.

In the wake of the second Death Star's destruction and the death of Emperor Palpatine and his champion, Darth Vader, the mighty Empire that once ruled the galaxy begins to fragment as the audacious Rebellion continues its victorious campaign against Imperial forces still desperately clinging on to the hope that the Empire yet remains strong. But even as scores of Imperial loyalists unconditionally surrender to the fledgling New Republic, many other Imperial commanders, unwilling to bow down to any other power, seized the chance to install themselves as the new leader of the Imperial Remnant, hoping to reunite the fragmented Empire and destroy the Republic once and for all.

But power corrupts, and absolute power corrupts absolutely.

In the end, the remnants of the Empire only squabbled among themselves, each seeking to dominate his or her rivals and claim the throne of leadership for themselves. Many a warlord have died in the ensuing conflicts that raged, while the victors have gained in strength, consolidating their hold with their mighty fleets and their battalions of stormtroopers, waiting to be deployed into the heat of conflict. Though the Empire has crumbled, its legacy lives on in such fearsome figures such as Thrawn, Harrsk, Zsinj, and Daala, and the many other warlords seeking to engrave their name in the annals of history. They fought, they squabbled, they bargained, and they schemed, all consumed in their thirst for advancing their power to greater heights.

The Imperial Civil War rages on, with no end in sight.


	2. Chapter I

The screams pierced his ears.

"Incoming!" someone yelled as the screech of artillery ripped through the air, ending in a massive thump of an explosion that sent bodies and dirt hurtling into the air. More screeches marked the descent of more shells, and more bodies were tossed haphazardly as blasts left splitting cracks in the earth.

Lieutenant Deren Wolstrak could barely hold himself together as the ranks of stormtroopers faltered against the laser bolts whizzing towards them. He could see them now, bravely putting up a resistant wall of fire amidst the rubble and the carnage, that he barely realized that he had tripped over on something, crashing down weakly onto the muddied earth. It then dawned on him as he struggled to regain his footing: he had tripped over a dead stormtrooper, sprawled in the gravel, a smoking hole in his helmet's right side.

Deren tried to crawl away, but he felt his strength slipping away from him. The concussion he suffered not two minutes ago left him all dazed, confused, lost. Death surrounded him, and death was still encroaching on him.

Beyond the thrumming pain echoing inside his skull like a brass bell, he felt afraid. That primal fear of being so very close, and yet so far, from death's door. Was this the end? Would this mark the final resting place of Lieutenant Deren Wolstrak, one of the finest officers to have graduated from the Caridan Imperial Academy?

And yet, all the lessons learned at the Academy paled in comparison to the leviathan that was war.

The screams didn't stop. Amidst the death throes of the injured, the dying, someone was sounding the retreat. Or at least it sounded that way.

Somehow, Deren managed to pull himself up, just as another artillery shell struck a few meters away from where he stood. He almost careened into the air, but luckily only collapsed to his knees. He felt arms suddenly grab him, and instinctively he tried to flail at whoever it was that held him and began pulling him away.

"Sir, I'm getting you out of here," the stormtrooper uttered, unperturbed by Deren's weakened gestures of aggression. Deren realized his mistake and tried to mouth an apology and thank-you at the same time, but gibberish and saliva merely poured out of his mouth.

In the blurriness of his vision, he saw other stormtroopers holding the line, their fellow comrades desperately trying to save the wounded. Artillery fire seemed to have ceased, or so he thought, but the rebels kept advancing forward, the upper hand clearly theirs. More stormtroopers fell to blaster fire, while many others hastily pulled back.

There was more shouting, but more of the panicked kind. The stormtrooper dragging him along put him down next to a field medic, and he could tell the stormtrooper was saying something to the other person. The trooper then nodded at Deren before running back to the faltering frontline, hoping to buy time... for what, really?

"... on, sir, we're gonna get you out of here." Was that the medic? Or was he just dreaming? Everything was so... hazy.

He felt himself lifted off the ground, but he wasn't too sure if that were true. The sounds of battle were beginning to fade, and his ears were ringing, the intensity of it seemingly growing louder and louder with every passing moment.

In the end, it didn't seem to matter anymore, because the world went pitch black.


	3. Chapter II

"Lieutenant?"

Deren Wolstrak blinked, suddenly realizing that his thoughts had wandered off to Endor.

"Sir?"

Admiral Gydon Sarheeno sighed as he regarded the young officer standing beside him, his brow furrowed in disapproval. "I trust that you won't let this... _laxity_ of yours to continue clouding your awareness of the present, especially at times like this."

"Sorry, sir, it... it won't happen again."

"See to it that it doesn't, Lieutenant," the Admiral mused, turning his attention back to the black-sheened starfighter completing its landing inside the vast hangar bay of the _Storm Walker_. The stormtrooper cadre flanking both sides of the hangar bay stood at attention, their gaze unfaltering, unperturbed by the presence of the starfighter.

Deren watched from behind the Admiral as the cockpit frame opened up, its pilot exiting the craft and striding towards the waiting honor guard, towards where the Deren and the Admiral now stood, the other officers around him waiting with slight trepidation. Admiral Sarheeno showed no emotion, but smartly saluted as the figure came before him.

"I trust that your travels have been fruitful, my lord?" the Admiral spoke, as his subordinates quickly mimicked his action.

"If all is well, Admiral, then Zayd will be meeting us in due course," Lord Cain replied nonchalantly, his voice distorted by the rebreather he wore, as he and the Admiral walked away to the exit. The stormtroopers stayed put, not one of them moving even an inch as the Sith master took leave from the hangar. Deren, trying to keep up, stayed close to the Admiral's side. Behind him, the officers quietly followed suit, though they chose to remain a few paces behind their superiors.

"I still have misgivings over Zayd's intentions," the Admiral continued as they walked on to the bridge. "He is just like the rest of them, power-hungry and eager to rise up above the rest, hoping to bolster his own personal stature in a post-Empire era."

"Lofty ambitions like his are always ripe for the cunning to manipulate, Sarheeno."

The Admiral sighed, but nodded in understanding. "And you believe that you've played him right into your hand?"

"Only because his ego made it that much easier to deceive him. He will not see it coming until it's far too late to turn back."

"And what becomes of him after the trap is sprung?"

Cain stopped and turned to face Sarheeno. "Then I will leave his fate for you to decide."

"You know I'd rather not have a pirate like Zayd on my bridge, let alone huddled with the other Captains. Forall and Kiedren are already dissatisfied with where things are headed, and the thought of mutiny is not something I'd like to entertain at any time."

Cain nodded. "They've been talking again, I assume?"

"Mere rumblings and rumors, but Sergeant Clay tells me that by the sound of it, it's clear they'd rather not be doing this had they any other choice."

"They could always leave," Cain ventured, a finger stroking the chin of his rebreather. "Clearly, nothing is preventing them to join Zsinj or even Kaine."

The Admiral shrugged. "They never did like those two, nor Harssk or the Teradocs. Personally, I think they would rather spirit themselves away to a quiet life, away from both the Republic and the Imperial warlords, us included."

It was then that Cain noticed Deren's presence behind the Admiral. Though he did not seem to have any obvious irises, Deren just _knew_ Lord Cain was gazing in his direction.

The Sith was an intimidating sight. He stood at almost six-and-a-half feet tall, with a gaunt yet confident-looking face, a well-built frame and a confident yet frightening demeanour that somehow emanated from him, possibly due to his status as a Sith lord. No one really knew what species Cain was, and some of the officers speculated that he was from the extensive Outer Rim territories that were not completely charted - or perhaps not from this galaxy at all.

His unique rebreather may make him stand out, but truly his irisless eyes were his most defining features. Officers who met with him could barely look him straight in the eyes; it was like looking into the maddening swirl of hyperspace, Deren recalled one's description of it; you just could not register the sheer expanse of nothingness that you beheld.

Instinctively, Deren turned his gaze to the floor.

"I don't think I'm acquainted with your new aide, Admiral," Cain then said.

Sarheeno nodded, pointing a hand towards Deren. "Yes, this is Lieutenant Deren Wolstrak, formerly an officer with the Seventh Battalion stationed on Endor's moon. He's taken over Brentis' place a month after your departure."

Deren smartly saluted, still unable to maintain eye contact. "I-it's an honor, my lord."

Cain suddenly extended a hand, and Deren examined it with some confusion. He lowered his salute, and slowly took the Sith lord's hand.

Cain shook his head after they shook hands. "He's just like you, Sarheeno, all about decorum and dignity to their superiors."

"As is everyone else, Lord Cain."

"Except Forall and Kiedren," Cain replied, amused. "They despise me, this I know."

"In spite of that, their fear of you overtakes their drive to mutiny."

"Funny, Admiral, I always thought it was you keeping them in line."

Deren looked at the two of them, lost. Cain turned back to the lieutenant, and gave a light, reassuring smack to his shoulder.

"You would do well to learn from the Admiral, Wolstrak. There's much you can gain from a decorated Imperial Navy officer such as Sarheeno, compared to the other blithering fools who think themselves better leaders."

The Admiral sighed, as if he'd heard this a thousand times. "You flatter me too much, my lord," he spoke out loud as Cain began walking away. There was no reply.

Deren blinked, and turned to face the Admiral, who sighed once again.

"Welcome to the new Empire, Lieutenant," was all he said.


End file.
